So, not a clue what time it was, but it was early, one am, two am, whatever, the process is always the same. The wife gets up, probably to pee, walks the standard Singaporean narrow trench between the bed and the wardrobe, and hits my foot, which, is always sticking out there. And I'm awake. It's not her fault, I do the same, my 6 4" 120kg frame getting out of bed causes as ripple effect that a butterfly could only dream of.
Except this time, when she comes back to bed she starts telling me about a dream she had. Now, we have had a few incidents in our time together that would cause nightmares and anxiety in a stoned Californian surf dude who was currently on vacation at a yoga retreat in Shimla. So when my wife says that she's had a bad dream I tend to listen. "I had a nightmare about pennywise". I turn over and go back to sleep.
The alarm goes off, at 5:30, our new wake up time after putting our oldest into local school, I used to feel superior getting to the trading desk at 7am, the army have a saying "we get more done my 9am than most people do all day". Well my daughter is in school by 7:20am and I know she does more work than I did on the trading desk. The wife mentions the dream about pennywise, I ask what happened, she's says she doesn't know. It's not the longest of conversations.
That evening, just before bed, she mentions the dream again. You can probably get where this is going. Yup. Must be about 2am I wake up from, yes a dream about pennywise. Now, I can't remember the entire dream, but I do kind of remember the ending, we, I don't know who, are chasing him down the street and I end up pistol-whipping him. Then I wake up, completely covered in my duvet, which never happens, and with said foot still sticking out the end of the bed as usual. I think about it for a while and contemplate waking the wife up to tell her I had a dream, and that she gave it to me. But I start thinking about the confidence in the dream, the chasing pennywise down the street etc. and I think back to the previous afternoon when I had the ironman race on the TV, my son starts asking loads of questions, he ends up running the length of the front room 3 or 4 times stops, sighs, then exclaims "I'm so good at stuff" the amazing confidence of 5 year old boys. So my psychosomatic (addict insane?) dream had two influences, my wife and son.
I tell my wife the next morning about my dream, knowing that the next time I hear about the story of the dreams would have changed slightly, it did "Luke and I both dreamed about pennywise".
So, the first night my wife had a bad sleep, the second night I had a bad sleep, the third night we both slept but it was one of those catch up sleeps, you might have slept, but you still need more, so breakfast the 3rd morning, at 6:20am was a little bit irritating than normal, with even my daughter getting involved, she had replied in some petulant manner which I parried with all my fatherly skill "what's you problem?" She sat there for a few seconds, probably deciding to switch my machine off at the first chance 30 years down the line. "Oh, I don't know, I didn't sleep very well, had a dream about a scary clown."